


Speech Is Silver

by springbreeze



Category: Senyuu.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 04:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2216577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbreeze/pseuds/springbreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A long overdue conversation, over a haircut. /Happy birthday, Crea! 4/5.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speech Is Silver

**Author's Note:**

> Post Part 2, Chapter 59. Here’s to everyone’s favorite former Demon Lord~

_“Welcome back.”_

_“I missed you.”_

_The words that do and don’t need to be said._

* * *

“Ah. The other one fell off too.”

Holding the small black wing-shaped accessory up to his eye, Crea squinted at it with childlike curiosity, the difference between Crea’s possessed self a few short hours ago and his current upbeat demeanor as wide as day and night. He looked down at himself, pulling at the tacky green jumpsuit and shaking his head with irritation as long strands of silver fell into his eyes.

“But wow, uncle’s fashion sense is really lame. Really unbearably lame.”

“No kidding,” Sion muttered with disgust, scrutinizing his friend closely. “Well, there’s only one thing to do.” He rummaged around for a moment before pulling a short dagger out of his pocket and pointing it directly at Crea’s face.

“Ooh, what’s that for?” Crea asked curiously, unflinchingly oblivious to the tip of the dagger nearly digging into his forehead.

“All you need to do is stay still, and this will be quick and painless.”

* * *

“I didn’t know you knew how to cut hair, Shii-tan!”

“I don’t. Now shut up and don’t move.”

Gripping the dagger tightly in his right hand, Sion lifted a handful of Crea’s unnaturally silver hair, measuring the length to cut off. Though he kept a straight face, a flutter of apprehension settled in his stomach. It was lucky that sitting on the rock, Crea was facing forward and away from him. “How short do you want it?”

“Just something short that won’t get in the way,” Crea replied cheerfully, flicking a quick glance to the edge of his vision without moving his head. “Or maybe you can do a cool haircut?”

“An afro it is then.”

“Shii-tan, that’s  _not_  cool.”

“I think it’d suit you. I did turn someone’s hair into an afro once, after all.”

“Really?!”

“It was when I could use magic. I guess we could ask the hero to cut your hair for you, now that I think about it.”

“Hero? You mean Alba-kun?”

Sion nodded, before remembering that Crea couldn’t see from his position. “That’s right. He’s only just gotten his hands on magic though, so his control of it is absolutely horrible. He’d probably set your head on fire.”

“No thank you!”

“That’s what I thought. So, as funny as that would be, we’re doing this.” He pressed the dagger’s blade against a clump of hair. “I’m cutting it now,” Sion warned, and sliced through with the dagger. It was surprisingly easy to cut through, and he marked it up to the sharpness of the blade.

Resisting the urge to fidget, Crea hummed contently, reaching up to brush away pieces of hair that had landed on his shoulder. “It’s been a long time since we got to talk like this, hasn’t it?”

“Mm.” A noncommittal response. “A very long time.”

“And a lot of things have happened.”

“Nice of you to notice.”

“I’m sorry, Shii-tan.”

The movement of the dagger abruptly stopped. “What for?” Sion said evenly, before resuming his task. There was a soft thump as a heavy lock of hair fell onto the dirt.

“You know, a little bit of this, and a little bit of that.” Knowing that Sion could not see his expression, Crea smiled a little wryly. “You’ve grown up a lot too, Shii-tan. I’m sorry I didn’t get to see that either.”

“Don’t be.” Sion’s response was unexpectedly sharp. “You wouldn’t like what you’d have seen.”

“Hm? How could I not like my best friend?”

“It’s… complicated.” The slightly strained note in Sion’s voice did not go unnoticed by Crea. He began to look behind him in concern, only to feel the handle of the dagger slam down on his head.

“Ow!”

“I told you not to move. I’m almost done.”

Deciding not to press it for now, Crea instead looked straight ahead, at the small, lively group of people gathered in the distance. “You’ve met a lot of people, haven’t you? I want to meet them all!”

“They’re really interesting. You’ll like them.”

“Does that mean you like them too, Shii-tan?”

“Something like that.”

Crea beamed a little with pride. “I’m glad! It’s the first time I’ve seen you around that many people. You used to not talk a lot to anyone besides me and uncle.”

“Well, things change. Not because I wanted them to.” Another pause. “But everything turned out okay, in its own way.”

“You’ll have to tell me all about what’s happened, you know.”

“Sure.” There was a final sound of metal severing through hair, and Sion let the last clump of silver fall unceremoniously onto the dirt. “We have all the time in the world to talk now. There, done. How’s it feel?”

Reaching up, Crea ran his hands through now mercifully shorter and lighter locks, shaking his head from side to side. “Seems fine to me. Thanks, Shii-tan!” He turned to face his friend at last, giving a thumbs-up and a brilliant grin. “How do I look?”

There was no doubt that the haircut had been done haphazardly, with spikes sticking out in every direction, and there was nothing to be done for the color. But the facial markings were gone, as were the strange accessories, and the eyes that blinked back at Sion now were comfortingly familiar vivid blue instead of a matching, sickening red.

Sion let out a soft sigh of relief, and managed a small smile.

“You look like yourself.”


End file.
